Chapter 6

Cal chuckled and shook her head, “If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you had nefarious intentions.”

Portia flashed a wicked grin, “If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were playing hard to get.”

Torrey was sprawled on the couch and watching a movie when the two of them walked in.

“Do you have a photo of this woman?” Portia pressed.

Cal ignored her question, “Torrey, this is Portia. Went to school with Becca and me. Portia, this is Torrey — big brother number two.”

Torrey raised a hand in greeting, “What woman?”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Cal rolled her eyes, “Portia, don’t you have to urinate?”

“My kegels are like an iron vice,” Portia wiggled her eyebrows lasciviously. She turned to Torrey, “I’m trying to figure out who Cal’s crushed out on. She keeps denying it, but has blushed sixteen shades of red since we started talking about it.”

“I have not!” Cal gave her brother a warning glare.

Torrey ignored it. “The woman in question is Annabelle Frye. Cal is not interested in her at all, like, so not interested that they text constantly.”

Portia raised her eyebrows in a display of exaggerated surprise, “Cal! You hate texting. You hate cell phones. Are you getting hot and heavy with this Annabelle woman over text?”

“You guys are so far off the mark it’s not even funny,” Cal whipped out her phone and pulled up the latest text exchange with Annie, “Here — look. We were just texting about nothing. Mostly about whether Torrey could handle the kids tonight.”

Torrey got up and took the phone from Cal and, with Portia looking over his shoulder, scrolled through the last few messages. He was about to hand the phone back when his eye latched onto one particular text. He squinted at the screen, “I don’t think this is nothing, Cal.”

Portia’s eyes widened when she saw what Torrey did.

“What?” Cal scoffed, “The Ryan Seacrest thing? It was just a joke.”

“No, Cal, the ‘you are worth waiting for’ thing.” Portia crossed her arms and wiggled her eyebrows.

“Gimme that!” Cal grabbed the phone back and scanned the screen. {Annie} You are worth waiting for. Somehow, she had missed it in the chaos of getting out the door earlier that evening.

She couldn’t move, couldn’t think. She looked up slowly. Portia and Torrey were giddy with self-satisfaction. Cal held up her hand, “Stop it. Don’t. Just hang on a minute.”

Portia headed into the bathroom, “I’m going to relieve myself while you uh, collect your thoughts.”

“How come I didn’t see this earlier?” Cal asked, feeling uncomfortably exposed.

“You were in a rush, Annie said she’d stop by, Adrian was being clingy.”

“But I saw the other texts…” Cal stared at her phone, dazed.

“You’re seeing it now, I guess,” Torrey grinned, “How are you feeling about it?”

“I don’t know,” Cal frowned, “I… I don’t know.”

Portia re-emerged, adjusting her dress, “You should just jump on her when she comes by tomorrow morning.”

“How did you –” Cal stared at Portia, “Oh, right, you read the texts. And I’m not jumping on anyone. She probably didn’t mean it that way.”

“Look, you can say that all you want, but I know flirting when I see it. And you guys are flirting up a storm with the little that I read. Live a little! Live a lot! Hell, fuck your brains out.” Portia said the last part almost dismissively as she checked her phone.

Torrey’s jaw dropped.

“Portia — MY KIDS ARE SLEEPING IN THE NEXT ROOM.” Cal hissed.

Portia tilted her head and listened, “They are fine. They didn’t hear a thing. Oh!” Portia smiled as she answered a text.

Cal’s brain was spinning. She’d screwed up somehow, maybe she let the texting get out of hand.

Portia looked up, “Much as I’d like to stay and talk about Annabelle Frye some more, Thor’s just getting in from the airport. I’ve got to go. He’s promised me sex for breakfast, lunch, and dinner in the hotel room this weekend.”

Some half a dozen air kisses later, the front door closed; Torrey made a noise that was a combination of a laugh and a snort, “Is she for real?”

Cal laughed, “Yep. And this is the older, mellower version of Portia Wyse.”

Torrey considered Cal’s statement, “Wow. It’s almost hard to imagine the high octane version. Her husband’s name is ‘Thor’?”

“His last name’s Thorssen. But it’s not far from the mark.”

“For the sake of the other guests, I hope the hotel room walls have good insulation…” Torrey sank into the couch, “She does have a point though, you know.”

Cal anticipated this, “I don’t fuck around, Torrey. You know that.”

“I wasn’t referring to her speech about sex, I meant her saying you need to live a little.”

“I’m barely managing what I’m doing right now, Torrey. There’s no room for anything else. It’d be too much.”

Cal sighed. She walked over to the sofa and slumped into it. “Too much of everything. There’s Becca, first of all. I don’t want to forget her, I don’t want the kids to forget her. I don’t want the kids to think I’m forgetting her. I don’t want to confuse the kids. I don’t want May and David thinking that I am forgetting Becca.”

Torrey didn’t say anything for a little while. His heart broke as he looked at his sister, who seemed so resigned to her involuntary loneliness.

Torrey wanted so much for Cal to allow herself some room to be happy again, “I sincerely doubt Becca will be forgotten by anyone anytime soon. Cal, you get to have a say in what comes next too, you know? You can’t be responsible for everyone else’s grief… or confusion.”

Cal shook her head, “I’m responsible for how the kids deal with this. There’s no one else, Torrey. Becca’s death either fucks them up completely, or fucks them up partially. I think that I’m just barely managing the latter. Anything stupid I add to the mix is going to send them straight to therapy for the rest of their lives.”

“Having a parent who is deeply lonely and unhappy will also send them to therapy for the rest of their lives.”

“I’m not lonely, and I’m not unhappy. So we’re fine!”

“Are you?” Torrey sat up straighter and looked his sister in the eye, “This self-imposed purgatory you’ve put yourself in — it’s making you happy? That’s you want?”

“No, course not. I want my wife back, Torrey.” Cal said this flatly, and without emotion.

“I know. But you can’t have her back,” Torrey said quietly.

The siblings sat in silence.

Cal let out a bitter half-laugh, “As if I’d get anywhere looking for a date. I’m in my late thirties, widowed, with two kids. No dating app could spin a profile like that.”

“I don’t think you need a dating app. Just look at your texts, Cal.”

“Annie. Portia was right about that too, by the way.”

Cal shrugged, “I think Portia was reading too much into it. You all are. That’s what I told May when we were in Baltimore. I just like being her friend, Torrey. I can’t process anything beyond that.” Cal knew she wasn’t being completely honest, but what was true was the fact that anything beyond friendship with Annie scared her in more ways than she could contemplate. Yep. I’m screwing this one up big time. Whether it’s Annie or Becca, I’m not doing either one of them any favors.

Torrey sat up, “Okay. That’s good. We are moving in the right direction. At least you’re admitting that this is a processing issue and not a lack of options issue. Because Annie is very patiently waiting for you to figure out your processing issue.”

Cal felt her face flush, “No she isn’t.”

Torrey pointed at Cal’s phone, “Yes. She. Is.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Cal was running out of ways to deny how she really felt without lying outright.

Torrey groaned, “You can be so fucking stubborn, you know that?”

“Yeah? Who are you to talk? Have you put together a demo of your sets yet? Steve is ready to pass it along to his record exec clients if you want.”

“I’m missing my lead singer,” Torrey wiggled his eyebrows.

Cal scoffed, “Puh-lease. I was just filling in while you looked for your lead vocalist. And you found her! Janey’s great! She can do gigs anywhere, weekends or nights. I can’t. You know, kids. And I have a day job.”

“I have a day job too, which is why it’s fine for things to stay the way they are. I’ve no aspirations to be the next Coldplay. Tell Steve I’m not after the big time.”

“You could be though.”

“Yeah, just like you could start dating Annie.”

Cal blew a raspberry at her brother.

“You like her. She likes you. Actually, I’m pretty sure you guys are head over heels for each other. And Annie is waiting for you to make the first move. Except you won’t.”

Torrey’s statements set off a dozen conflicting emotions within Cal’s heart; she instinctually clammed up.

Her brother continued, “You call her ‘Belle’. She likes it when you do that.” Torrey raised his eyebrows meaningfully.

“Plenty of people call her that.” Cal retorted.

Torrey shook his head, “Good try, sis. I made a comment about it earlier when she was here and she said you’re the only one.”

Cal blushed, “You know what you are? A shit-stirrer. A giant good-for-nothing shit-stirrer.”

Torrey grinned. He reached over and ruffled Cal’s hair, “Only cuz I love you, sis. Don’t spend the rest of your life thinking you can’t be happy, okay?”

Cal sighed, “I’m not unhappy. That’s got to be good enough, Torrey. Don’t push. I can’t. Please.”

Torrey held up both his hands in surrender, “Fine. Okay. But deep down, you know I’m right. I mean, Annie likes you so much she voluntarily came over to put your kids to bed. And she did it like a pro. Think about that for a second.”

“I think it’s time for you to go home, Torrey,” Cal leaned over and gave him a hug, “Thanks for coming over tonight. All this would be impossible without you.”

Shutting down the conversation was the only way Cal could extract herself from getting all tangled up in half-truths and denials. Torrey didn’t push further, he knew some of his more pointed comments landed.

After Torrey headed home, Cal crawled into bed and stared at the framed photograph of her and Becca on her bedside table. The photo was from one of the first holidays they took together as a couple when Cal was a sophomore in college. The beach and ocean were in the background; they were both sunburned and grinning.

Cal sighed, “Everyone is being ridiculous. They think me and Annie should be a thing…” Cal turned off the light. She glanced at the outline of the photo frame in the darkness, “I have you in my head and my heart. Why would I need anything else?”

{Annie} Did you survive the work dinner?

Cal put down the phone, as if trying to prove that she wasn’t over-the-moon excited to get a text from Annie.

Moments later, she grabbed the phone again, the backlit screen glowing in the darkness. She couldn’t help it. She had to respond.

{Cal} Yes. More importantly, Torrey owes you — apparently bedtime was smooth like butter.

{Annie} It’s all good. Now that you aren’t a client, I feel at liberty to say this: if you ever need an extra set of hands, just let me know.

Cal suddenly had a very vivid, very explicit mental picture of Annie’s hands on her body. It made her gasp. Before she could come up with a response, Annie texted again.

{Annie} And this: (it may seem aggressive, but fuck it) You are by far the most awesome individual I’ve had the great good fortune to meet in a long time.

Cal’s heart twitched as she read the text. When the words started to really sink in, Cal felt another pang of joy.

{Cal} The feeling is mutual. Although it’s somewhat surprising, given the fact that you’re a bunny smuggler and all.

{Annie} Thankfully, that’s not my best attribute :-p

Another vivid, very sexy image of Annie flashed up in Cal’s brain. Cal let out a big breath, “Keep your hormones in check, idiot.”

{Cal} What would that be? Your ability to make your patients scream in pain?

{Annie} Only the wimpy ones.

{Cal} Are you calling me a wimp?

“Hey!” Cal protested, but her smile betrayed her true feelings about Annie’s teasing.

{Annie} … but you’re still my favorite!

Cal’s smile grew. {Cal} I bet you say that to all your former clients…

{Annie} No. Just you. I’m betting on your law degree getting me out of trouble one day.

{Cal} And there I was, thinking you liked me for my wit and charm.

{Annie} As my nana used to say, ‘You can never have enough lawyers in your life.’

{Annie} You’ll get over it. Good night, Cal.

{Cal} See you tomorrow.

–Chapter 5: The Cultural Festival (The Following Day – August)–

Cal woke up with a big smile on her face. She stretched and listened for noises coming out of her children’s room. Miraculously, they seemed to still be asleep. She smiled a little more. Her eyes fell on the photograph on her bedside table. The smile faded.

“Yep. This still sucks,” Cal muttered to herself. In the days immediately after Becca’s death, she’d wake up crying. Now, almost a year later, Cal enjoyed a couple of minutes of her brain in neutral when she woke up. Today, she woke up with a smile, which was nice. Sure, the sadness crept in, as it inevitably did every morning, but it seemed to have ebbed into a low, quiet hum. Without really thinking about it, she shot Annie a text.

{Annie} The average American picks his/her nose 4 times a day.

Cal chuckled. {Cal} Ew. Why are you up so early?

{Annie} I had to pick my nose. Why are you up so early?

{Cal} Parenting body clock. 10am can’t come soon enough.

{Annie} You need to get out more.

{Cal} Ain’t that the truth. See you soon.

Moments later, two pairs of feet padded into the room, bringing with them two soft and cuddly bodies. Mother and children went through their morning routine, with the twins eagerly awaiting Annie’s arrival. When the intercom buzzed ten minutes earlier than expected, Cal happily threw open the door.

Except it wasn’t Annie who walked out of the elevator.

“I left my ring in your bathroom,” Portia said as she sauntered in. The kids said quick hellos but, not knowing Portia well, quickly pivoted to a game of Bug Bingo.